The madness is palpable in every frame. But there is very little method to it. And while, for all intents and purposes, you do sign up for Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo expecting a crazy ride, a largely unhinged, inconsistent narrative over eight long episodes does take the joy out of what could have been a heady (pun fully intended) watch.
To be honest, Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo, streaming on Disney+Hotstar, did have us at ‘hello’. And that happened right from the unique, off-centre title itself. Added to that was the fact that the series came from Homi Adajania, a maker who, from Being Cyrus to Finding Fanny, has illustrated how he is able to take the tried-and-tested formula and flip it completely on its head, most often successfully. And then, of course, was the premise — a matriarch leading her family of beti and bahus into the business of meth-making — called ‘Flamingo’ here — with the women calling the shots, from cooking up cocaine to running a globally thriving drug cartel, with the men of the family functioning as bumbling, helpless outsiders. This is a subversion of the gender stereotype in every possible way — women flexing power, exercising control, wresting decision-making ability and killing with abandon.
The last is definitely neither desirable nor endorsed, but Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo makes it clear from the beginning that it is set in a utopian world (which may, or may not be dystopian). In the garb of a fledgling women’s cooperative manufacturing handicrafts and medicinal products, Savitri aka Rani Baa (Dimple Kapadia) operates the biggest drug cartel in the northern part of the country. While her daughter Shanta (Radhika Madan) cooks up much of what they sell, Savitri’s daughters-in-law have their work clearly cut out. Bijlee (Isha Talwar), the more stoic and dependable one, manages the finances and brokers deals; the enterprising but mercurial Kajal (Angira Dhar) bands the women of the village together and gets them down to work.
The only main male member in the mix is Dhiman (Udit Arora), Savitri’s adopted son, whose semi-incestuous relationship with Shanta threatens to rock the boat. But the ship, manoeuvred with both stealth and skill by the women, truly runs aground when the men (Ashish Verma and Varun Mitra play Savitri’s reprobate sons, none the wiser about what goes on at home), come back for their annual trip from foreign shores.
Adajania does well in anchoring his story of guns and gore, grit and gals in the fictional milieu of Runjh Pradesh. But this is, of course, very much Rajasthan. While Aarya, also streaming on Disney+Hotstar, operates with a similar premise — a woman rises to call the shots in her family’s drug supply business — the setting and viewpoint of Sushmita Sen’s series is largely urban.
Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo, on the other hand, plays out in the brutal, lawless heartland where blood is spilt without a thought and betrayal is part of the game. Adajania, a film-maker with a distinctly urbane perspective, triumphs in getting his context and characters spot-on, thanks in no small measure to Linesh Desai’s all-encompassing capture of the sweeping landscape.
But a man’s viewpoint of a story built around women is most often flawed and pretentious, and while Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo revels in its imperfections, its indulgent treatment and predilection to trip over its own excesses, proves to be its undoing. Adajania has a blast telling his story, but it often comes accompanied by incoherence, and we are just not talking about those scenes where the characters are snorting up. Which is pretty often, by the way.
Also, women’s empowerment on our screens today — with streaming providing both freedom of time and loose censorship — often finds expression through sensationalism. Like Radhika Madan’s entry scene showing her orgasming with virtual reality goggles on does very little to explain who Shanta is. This, and many other instances through the course of the show, only works in establishing the fact that Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo’s myopic understanding of its women is only rooted in their sexual lives, rather than focusing on sisterhood or soul.
However, there is no denying the fact that Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo is binge-worthy, especially in its intent to present a revisionist soap opera and when its women run amuck, pulling the strings and showing the men exactly how things need to be done. Dimple Kapadia, as expected, is the pick of the cast, with a virtually unrecognisable Deepak Dobriyal operating smoothly as Rani Baa’s dead-eyed rival. Of the rest, Isha Talwar, Ashish Verma and Udit Arora are the ones who make an impression.
Excess is what finally goes against Saas Bahu Aur Flamingo. Quirky, dysfunctional, sensationalist, edgy, crooked, badass... all of these are fine, but in the end, nothing works quite like a good story.
